BULL’S EYE: Notes from the hallowed world of medaid marvels
I am one little malign cell in the medical machine, but I’m in the big league now - a taker, not a giver
I’m sorry, it’s all my fault. I used to be like you, grousing that my medical aid savings had run out by April and that I had to spend the rest of the year paying for my own GP visits and cough syrup. Life was one long self-payment gap.
I used to wonder why I paid so much to Discovery and only got a pair of specs or a dental crown out of the deal. Where did the rest of the money go, because I sure as heck wasn’t seeing any of it?
But now that one of my bean-sized adrenal glands has mutated into an aubergine, my medical aid and I have entered a different, more meaningful kind of relationship. I have been ushered through Discovery’s portal into a hallowed world where petty gripes about being short-changed have been set aside, where the gods of actuarial science have invited me to play for free...